


The Hotel

by NikkiNoir



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Community Calendar, Welcome To Night Vale Episode, Welcome to Night Vale - Freeform, cecil palmer - Freeform, children's fun fact science corner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:31:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9567632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikkiNoir/pseuds/NikkiNoir
Summary: A new hotel has appeared in Night Vale. An update on the Community Calendar and even a Children's Fun Fact Science Corner about the sun!





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know WTNV isn't accepting any episode ideas, but I thought I'd try my hand at writing one anyway. This is just a random one-shot I did in a few hours, and I thought I'd share it, since I clearly never post anything anymore (sorry). This was a fun writing exercise. It makes me want to write a podcast! :)

Do not stop and smell the flowers. Never stop and smell the flowers. All flowers have been outlawed. Do not ask why, for your very well-being is at stake. 

Welcome to Night Vale.

(Cue intro music)

Hello, listeners. Big news out of Old Town Night Vale; a large hotel has just appeared, the shadow of which has plunged Old Town into complete darkness. The hotel is approximately thirty stories high and boasts a black art deco façade, heavy medieval-looking wooden doors and metal-barred windows.

The City Council announced that it was about time that Night Vale got a hotel. Asking: “who wouldn’t want to spend their vacation basking in the skin-blistering heat, taking photographs with our iconic invisible clock tower and joining in on a round of screaming at the sky? Why go anywhere else?” 

“Florida?” They continued, groaning dramatically, “More like no thank you we have plenty of reptiles than can kill us here.” 

When questioned where the hotel came from, the members of the City Council stared at no one in particular, unblinking, for several minutes before hissing, in unison, “TOURISM IS THE FUTURE” through gritted teeth before disappearing into a cloud of black smoke, leaving a single straw penny in the spot they stood only moments prior.

Now, I don’t know about you, listeners, but I think a hotel is a great idea. Our sweet Night Vale has so much to offer vacationers. Like our vast, beautiful wasteland of sand, the hypnotic lights in the sky above the Arby's and let’s not forget Big Rico’s Pizza. Delicious. 

Besides, if Desert Bluffs can have a hotel, then, why not our proud city? I bet we could attract more tourists in a week than Desert Bluffs could in ten years. And that’s because we aren’t terrible like those jerks in Desert Bluffs. What an awful place.

Here’s the five day forecast:

Monday. Neutrality.

Tuesday. Neutrality with a hint of sadness.

Wednesday. Sadness with a hint of neutrality.

Thursday. Existential dread. 

Friday. Unbridled joy with that negative thought in the back of your head. You know, the one where you think that something has to go wrong because you’re never this happy. It just seems like every time you find a little but of happiness, something always comes along and says “Oh, I don’t think so, Susan,” and drops a plot twist in like George RR Martin, instantly making you forget any and all joy that had ever existed in your life. What is happiness, really, other than a causeway between bouts of unfathomable dread? Remember, dread is the only feeling that keeps you on your toes and it’s the law to feel it twenty-five days every month!

Oh?

Our new intern just came into the studio and handed me a piece of paper. Thank you. (Shuffle paper) Oh…oh my…

Listeners. It seems the new hotel in Old Town is growing in size and is currently blocking out the sun. The rest of Night Vale is now in complete darkness, a frost is spreading over the land, seeming to be coming directly from the hotel itself. A low buzzing sound is permeating from inside of the hotel. A team of officers from the Sheriff’s Secret Police have entered the hotel. More to this story when it becomes available. 

It’s time for another Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner!

The sun is hot. The sun is so incredibly hot that it could kill all of us if it so desired. If the urge struck it, the sun could incinerate this entire galaxy without any difficulty. You and everyone you know and loved would be gone in an instant, smudged out of existence. But, we all know that would never happen because the sun is actually a benevolent God who only wants to help us. So, be sure to leave a weekly tribute of sweet grass and actual lava on your sun altar to keep our kindly Sun God appeased. Be sure to have an adult present when handling the lava. It’s not as hot as the sun, but it’s still pretty hot and can actually kill you. 

This has been another Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner.

Now, a word from our sponsor. 

It’s cold. The sound of waves crashing envelopes you, but you’re completely dry. It’s dark. There are no stars or moon, only void. You walk, your hands and arms extended in front of you, feeling blindly around as you make your way to the sound of the waves. They’re close. The sound is almost deafening as you pick up speed, running as fast as you can into the pitch blackness. Suddenly, the ground disappears and you’re falling. Air rushes past you as your body plummets down a seemingly endless drop. You try to scream, but the sound is drowned out by the waves crashing below. The feeling of falling, though initially terrifying, becomes almost enjoyable. You smile, thinking to yourself that it wouldn’t be half bad to fall for the rest of your life, which is coincidentally when your body hits the water. You still can’t see a thing and try to swim toward the surface, desperate for air and struggling to stay alive. That’s when you see it. A smattering of gold specks surrounding you…they’re closing in…you can feel them…tiny mouths nibbling at your bare flesh...as everything goes dark… Goldfish. The snack that smiles back.

Welcome back, listeners. You know, here at Night Vale Community Radio, we get so many people asking about our station pet, Khoshekh. Khoshekh, as you know, is the cat who hovers at a fixed point, a few feet off the ground, near the sink in the men’s bathroom. We’ve all grown very attached to Khoshekh and I like to think he loves us just as much. He purrs when we pet him and sometimes he even lets me scratch his belly. What a little cutie! Khoshekh is a fixture here- sometimes I think people only come to the station to get a glimpse of him and he deserves it. What a perfect creature. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- I’m a dog person, but Khoshekh is has definitely converted me. We’ll be sure to keep you all updated on how Khoshekh is doing in the future.

Here’s next week’s community calendar.

Tuesday is Murder Amnesty day. If you’ve committed a murder and haven’t been caught yet, report to the Secret Police for your confession. “We’re totally not going to arrest anyone,” the Sheriff said in a press conference about the amnesty day, “nothing is going to happen if you confess to an illegal murder. We just want to know who killed who. You wouldn’t believe how many unsolved murders there are. Help us out. We’re literally drowning in paperwork. Please…help…us….” He continued, pleading to into the microphone, wiping a single tear from his cheek, “there’s so much paperwork. So much…” Murder Amnesty day goes from 9 AM until 4:47 PM, so be sure to confess to all those secret murders!

Wednesday and Thursday will be blurs in your memory.

Friday is Bring Your Pet to Work Day! Prizes for coolest pets will be announced via sky writing, at night, six months from now. Pet rocks will not be counted, as they are not real pets. All pet rocks will be confiscated and thrown into the sand waste in a banishment ceremony, as is customary, before the owners are taken to the old mine shaft for permanent detention. If you don’t have a pet, get one. Bring Your Pet to Work Day is not optional. 

This has been the community calendar.

Listeners, our intern just handed me another piece of paper. (Shuffle paper) Oh? It…seems like the strange buzzing coming from within the hotel is bees. Hundreds of thousands of bees. The officers of the Sheriff’s Secret Police that had entered the hotel, ran outside, flailing their arms, yelling “BEES!!! THE BEES!! BEEEEEEEES!!!!! AAAHHHHH!!!” pushing through the crowd of citizens in an attempt to get away from the swarm of bees that had followed them out of the hotel. 

Mass panic ensued as the bees engulfed the crowd of people that had formed in front of the hotel. People were running in all directions, screaming and swatting madly at the air to avoid being stung by the unmerciful insects. It was similar to that scene from that movie with that battle scene. You know, the one with the people running around in a chaotic frenzy of swords and blood. Except with a lot more bees. A lot more.

The only person remaining was John Peters, you know, the farmer. He stood, arms folded, watching the crowd scatter, with moderate disapproval, shaking his head, murmuring “those ain’t bees. Bees ain’t real.” 

But I think we all know that bees are, in fact, real. What else could possibly explain the swarm of stinging insects and all that buzzing? Without bees we wouldn’t have honey! What a ridiculous thing to say. Bees are- um…it seems that I’ve just received a message from the City Council, via Morse code:

Bees are not real. Do not run. Everything is fine. There are no bees. Please remain calm. Go about your business and ignore the buzzing. It’s not real. Hotel? What hotel? We don’t see any hotel. Stay away from that hotel that isn’t there. It doesn’t exist, so why are we even talking about it? 

Well, listeners, you heard it. The hotel doesn’t exist and neither do bees. But, there are still plenty of things that do exist, like, the weather.

(The Weather) 

Listeners, the hotel that does not exist, has begun to glow. The purple gleam emanating from the rows of windows cast an eerie effulgence over the town, causing everyone, who had until then been in a panicked frenzy, to stop and look toward the source of the light. The buzzing noise subsided as the heavy, wooden doors to the hotel, which is not real, opened, revealing the outline of what looked like a giant bee. 

The figure, hovering about two feet off the ground, was enormous and had wings, a stinger and six legs. As it came outside, the citizens still gathered in the area gasped and shrieked; one woman even fainted at the sight of the huge bee. Anatomically it was exactly like a regular bee, except it was the size of a small car. 

The bee flew to the podium, which was still set up from earlier, and it tapped the microphone with one of its front legs. The taps on the microphone echoed through the area, which was odd, considering there were no speakers. It was literally just a podium with a microphone, not plugged in to anything. 

“I am Esmerelda DiPaolo Esperaza Von Deiterschmidt, Queen of the Bees. We have come to-“ the Queen Bee began, but was interrupted by John Peters, you know, the farmer?

“Bees ain’t real!” He yelled, shaking his fist angrily in the air, “Bees! Ain’t! Real!” he shouted again, chanting the words over and over until the citizens around him joined in. (After all, who doesn’t enjoy a good chant.) 

Esmerelda DiPaolo Esperaza Von Deiterschmidt, Queen of the Bees screamed in pain, crying out, “IF WE GO YOU ALL GO!” as she literally exploded into a thick wave of slime, bee venom and exoskeleton, which covered several citizens who had been standing nearby. 

After a moment of shock and panic, particularly for those who had an allergy to bee venom, the citizens looked around and realized the hotel was gone, along with all the bees. Even the mess of innards that had sprayed onlookers had mysteriously vanished. Everything was back to normal, so everyone went about their business. 

The City Council later announced that we were safe for now. “Not that we were in any real danger because there was no hotel and bees don’t exist” they added, chuckling among themselves before spontaneously sprouting sets of dragon-like wings and flying off back toward Town Hall in the normal V formation, to relay the word that we are safe. 

So that’s it. We’re okay, Listeners. The danger is gone, at least for now. You can go home to your loved ones and tell them you love them, just in case. Call your mother, e-mail your siblings because you might not get another chance. Life is short; even shorter if you look at it from a universal point of view. Our existence is but only a blip in time but, still, in this moment, we are alive. We exist, Night Vale, we are real and there is nothing more important than that. 

Coming up next: The entire works of Captain Beefheart, played on the Theremin. 

And, as always, Goodnight, Night Vale, goodnight.


End file.
